SPENCER'S  BOSTON   THEATRE No.  XCVI. 


CRINOLINE. 

INONEACT. 

•WRITTEN  BY  i 

) 

ROBERT     B.     BROUGH,  ■ 

AUTHOR   OP 

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"WITH 

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BUSINESS,  CORRECTLY  MARKED   AND   ARRANGED,  BY 

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LOF  THE  BOSTON  THEATRE. 


BOSTON: 

WILLIAM    V.    SPENCER, 

12v  WASmKOTOX  Street,  (cokhsr  of  Watib.) 


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IJBRARY 

w  ,/y^  liMMr.HSri  Y  (H-  CALIFORNIA 

^1  f^    ^_  SAM'A  BAKBAUA 


CRINOLINE. 


ACT  I. 

Scene  I.  —  A  Sitting  Room  in  Mr.  Coobiddy's  House,  furnished  in 
the  style  of  a  comfortable  suburban  villa.  Set  door,  R.  1  E.  ;  door  in 
flat,  R.  H.,  practical ;  centre  doors  practical,  backed  with  chamber  ;  win- 
dow, L.  F. ;  set  door.  1  e.  l.  h.  ;  table,  loith  books  on,  K.  H. ;  two 
chairs  on  R.  h.  ;  small  table  and  two  chairs  on  2  e.  l.  h. 

Mrs.  Coobiddt  and  Miss  Tite  discovered  seated  on  R.  h.  ;  the  latter 
in  walking  costume,  and  dressed  up  to  the  height  of  the  prevailing 
fashion  —  large  hooped  skirt,  tight-waisted  jacket,  small  bonnet,  S^c. 
{She  is,  hoicever,  very  old  and  ugly.) 

Miss  T.  (l.  of  table.)  O,  my  love,  I  assure  you,  you  must  have 
one.  It  is  indispensable,  my  love  —  dee  rig  jewer.  In  fact  you  can- 
not possibly  show  yourself  in  the  street  without  one.  Toot  le  mond 
wears  them. 

Mrs.  C.  (r.  h.  of  table.)  Well,  for  my  own  part,  do  you  know, 
I  can't  say  that  I  greatly  admire  them. 

Miss  T.  And  pray,  my  dear,  what  can  it  matter  whether  you  ad- 
mire them  or  not  ?  I  trust  you  are  not  going  to  set  up  your  individ- 
ual opinion  against  the  fashion.  But  you  really  surjirise  me  by  your 
want  of  taste.  Who  can  help  admiring  them  ?  Observe  the  majestic 
and  graceful  sway  they  give  to  the  hgure  while  walking.  (Rises,  and 
walks  tip  and  doivn  front  of  stage,  wagging  her  skirt  about  ridiculously  ) 
And  when  one  has  a  waist  biang  tourney,  they  give  one  an  opportu- 
nity of  showing  it,  with  the  assistance  of  these  dear,  delightful  little 
jackets. 

Mrs.  C.  My  husband  says  the  new  fashions  in  dress  make  a  lady 
look  like  a  perfect  bell. 

Miss  T.  (Simpering.)  O,  indeed  !  I  am  glad  to  find  your  hus- 
band a  man  of  taste  for  once  in  his  life. 

Mrs.  C.  For  once,  inderd  !  Well,  upon  my  word  !  —  But  he 
doesn't  mean  the  sort  of  bell  you  do  —  he  means  a  bell  like  the  great 
bell  of  Saint  PauFs,  or  Big  Ben. 

Miss  T.      Quel  monstre  ! 

Mrs.  C.     (Aside.)     O,  I'm  not  going  to  have  my  dear  Tom  called 

(3) 


4  CRIXOLIXE.  [act   I. 

names !  and  he  says  a  little  ^\Tinging  at  the  neck  would  do  you  all 
goo(t  for  making  such  frights  of  yourselves. 

^uss  T.  {Angrili/.)  Your  husband  is  a  vulgar  ^^Tetch  !  Ei  vooz 
etcs  tin  oter,  ma'am. 

Mrs.  C.  {Risiuff.)  But  he  says  you  look  even  more  like  the  dome 
of  St.  Paul's  than  the  bcU,  and  that  the  pinching  in  of  your  waist 
carries  out  the  resemblance,  for  it  reddens  your  nose,  and  makes  you 
show  a  little  cross  at  the  top. 

Miss  T.  Did  I  come  here  to  be  insulted  ?  Par  deu  toot !  Not  if 
I  know  it. 

Mrs.  C.  (  Warmly.)  O,  then,  if  you  omy  came  to  insult  me  and 
my  husband,  as  1  have  no  intention  to  put  up  ■\\-ith  it,  the  sooner  you 
get  outside  of  my  door  the  better,  if  you  can  squeeze  yom-self 
through  it. 

Miss  T.  [Ironically.)  Exquisite  breeding,  really !  You  are  pos- 
itively a  credit  to  your  amiable  and  gentlemanly  husband,  in  the 
Manchester  trade.  {Goitiy  up  to  c.  Miis.  Coobiddy  crosses  to  L.)  I 
will  have  the  pleasure  of  leaving  you  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  very 
refined  society,  (^snappishly,)  and  wishing  him  good  luck  of  his  pre- 
cious bargain. 

Mrs.  C.  The  same  to  your  husband  —  and  I  •wish  you  may  get 
one. 

Miss  T.  {Courtesying  at  c.  d.)  Madame,  jee  voo  soo  wait  be  hong 
jour,  and  many  of  'em.  (As  Miss  Tite  is  about  to  have  the  room 
majestically,  she  is  stuck  fast  in  the  doorway  with  Coobiddy,  who  is 
about  to  enter ;  a  struggle  ensues  ;  Miss  Tite  screams.) 

Coo.  Gently,  my  dear  madam  ;  one  at  a  time,  and  perhaps  we 
may  manage  it.  (Draws  back.  Miss  Tite /masses  him  contemptuously, 
and  exit  c.  D.  L.  Coobiddy  stands  in  doorway,  looking  .after  her,  and 
calling.)  The  next  time  you  feel  inchned  for  a  moniing-call,  I  should 
recommend  Buckingham  Palace  :  my  staircases  are  lather  naiTOW. 
(Stands  looking  after  Jier.) 

Mrs.  C.  (.'seated,  1  L.  c,  a7id  glancing  nervously  iotrards  door,  n.jlai.) 
The  old  tabby  !  I'm  glad  I've  got  rid  of  her.  If  I  had  told  her  I 
had  ordered  one  myself,  she  would  have  thought  I  was  imitating  her. 

Coo.  (Calling  off,  t.  c.)  Take  the  street  to  the  right:  it's  the 
broadest.  Y'ou  might  meet  a  cab  in  the  other,  and  the  consequences 
would  be  dreadful.     (Comes foncard,  looking  back  occasionally.) 

Mrs.  C.  (Aside.  Still  looking  at  door,  ii.  fat.)  I  wonder  if  the 
man  would  have  the  sense  to  escape  by  the  lawn  windows  ?  He  must 
know  the  importance  of  secrecy  in  such  cases,  and  he  seemed  a  very 
intelligent  person.  I  don't  hear  any  noise.  (Turns  to  her  husband, 
trying  to  appear  unc07icerned.)  Well,  Tom,  dear,  are  you  obliged  to 
start  on  your  journey  this  afternoon  r     (Crosses  to  ii.  ii.) 

Coo.  ( Takes  chair,  and  sits,  c.)  Before  I  answer  that  question, 
Mrs.  C,  allow  me  to  ask  one. 

Mrs.  C.     (k.  c.)     Certainly,  Tom.  —  (Aside.)     Can  he  suspect  ? 
Coo.     Are  you  deeply  versed  in  the  Historj'  of  England  ? 

Mrs.  C.  I'm  sure  I  don't  Imow,  Tom.  1  hope  1  learned  all  that 
was  proper  at  Mrs.  Backboard's. 

Coo.    I  have  no  doubt  but  you  did,  -with  a  great  deal  that  wasn't. 


SCENE   I.]  CRINOMXE.  5 

into  the  bargain ;  but  I  do  not  allude  to  the  ninepenny  Pinnock,  or 
the  three-and-sixpcnny  Goldsmith  of  the  early  scholastic  period.  I 
would  simply  ask  you,  if  you  are  at  all  versed  in  the  domestic  man- 
ners of  our  ancestors  of  the  Elizabethan  and  previous  epochs  ? 

3Irs.  C.     O,  if  you  are  going  to  use  hard  words 

Coo.  By  no  means,  my  love.  I  wish  to  complete  your  defective 
education,  beginning  where  the  respected  Mrs.  Backboard  appears  to 
have  lei't  off.  In  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  my  life,  and  previous- 
ly, as  you  may  learn  from  the  annals  of  Stowe  and  others,  it  was  cus- 
tomary for  the  most  respectable  fathers  of  families,  when  their  grown 
up  daughters  misbehaved,  or  made  fools  of  themselves,  to  give  the  said 
grown  up  daughters  a  thundering  good  whacking. 

Mrs.  C.     How  very  dreadful ! 

Coo.  Ah,  you  have  no  idea  hoio  dreadful !  for  the  indignant  parent 
was  not  legally  restricted,  like  the  more  frequently  indignant  hus- 
band, to  a  stick  no  thicker  than  his  thumb,  so  that  the  favorite  weap- 
on in  such  cases  was  the  mopstick.  I  assure  you  it  did  the  young 
ladies  a  world  of  good.  I  never  regretted  the  decay  of  old  English 
customs  more  than  at  the  present  moment. 

Mrs.  C.     Good  heavens  !   what  do  you  mean  ? 

Coo.  Well,  it  doesn't  matter  much.  I  don't  suppose  that  Miss 
Tite,  who  has  just  left  us,  at  her  time  of  life  can  be  blessed  with  a  fa- 
ther young  and  strong  enough  to  give  her  the  thi'ashing  she  requires. 
But  I  only  know,  if  I  had  a  wife,  daughter,  or  sister  capable  of  dress- 
ing herself  hi  imitation  of  a  summer  cabbage,  with  the  stalk  upper- 
most   

Mrs.  C.    (^Coaxinrjhj .)    Would  you  beat  me  with  a  mopstick,  Tom  ? 

Coo.  No.  I  don't  say  that ;  six  months  with  hard  labor  is  a  con- 
sideration in  these  times,  but  I  would 

Mrs.  C.     {^As  before.)     Apply  for  a  deed  of  separation,  Tom? 

Coo.  There  would  be  no  occasion  for  that ;  we  should  be  already 
separated  three  or  four  yards  either  way,  if  you  wore  one  of  those 
horsehair  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  —  they  are  made  of  horsehair,  I  be- 
lieve ? 

Mrs.  C  Of  course,  Tom.  —  {Aside.')  I  dare  not  tell  him  the  iron 
truth. 

Coo.  No ;  in  that  case  I  should  simply  claim  a  legal  ratification 
of  the  matter.  I  should  say,  let  my  wife  enjoy  her  independent  lib- 
erty within  the  territories  of  her  horsehair  —  what  do  you  call  it  ?  — 
and  let  me  enjoy  mine  in  shigle  blessedness,  at  a  considerable  distance 
outside  the  frontier. 

Mrs.  C.     {Aside.)     I  dare  not  tell  him. 

Coo.  But  then,  I  have  no  fear  of  you  ;  you  arc  a  woman  of  sense, 
or  you  could  never  have  married  me.  You  are  the  nearest  approach 
on  earth  to  a  perfect  being,  otherwise  how  could  I  have  fallen  in  love 
with  you  ?     But  I  am  uneasy  about  Bella. 

Mrs.  C.  I  am  sure,  Tom,  you  ought  not  to  be  ;  she  is  a  dear  good 
girl. 

Coo.  {Rises  and  crosses  to  R.)  Very  likely  ;  but  she  is  eighteen 
years  of  age,  and  is  a  fearful  responsibility  for  a  young  uncle  only  go- 
ing on  for  his  thirty.  It  was  rather  u  mean  proceeding  on  the  part  of 
1  * 


6  CRINOLINE.  [act    I. 

my  bip;  brother  Joe  to  die  at  all  ;  he  was  forty-five,  and  ought  to  have 
known  better. 

Mis.  C.     But  I  am  sure,  dear,  Bella  is  all  that  we  could  wish. 

Coo.  I  don't  know  !  I  don't  know  !  (TaA-es  Mrs.  CooniDi)Y_/br- 
ward,  c.)  She  wants  your  strength  of  character  and  purity  of  taste. 
I  have  already  detected  a  baneful  tendency  on  her  part  to  turn  her 
front  hair  inside  out,  and  gum  it  back,  so  as  to  show  the  roots  instead 
of  the  portion  which  nature  intended  to  be  visible.  On  the  occasion 
of  giving  her  a  paternal  salute,  I  have  found  a  good  deal  of  her  com- 
plexion come  off  on  my  coat  collar,  causing  me  to  remind  myself  of 
the  jovial  miller  who  resided  on  the  banks  of  (r.)  the  River  Dee. 
Take  my  word  for  it,  ilaria,  unless  we  look  verj'  sharp  after  that  girl, 
she'll  come  to  Crinoline  yet. 

Mrs.  C.  (l.,  aside.)  I  wish  he  was  not  so  prejudiced.  I  should 
like  to  tell  him  the  whole  truth. 

Coo.  However,  I  must  be  off;  the  train  starts  at  six.  I'm  due  at 
Manchester  in  the  morning,  —  and  to  thuik  that  you  vnll  be  obliged 
to  go  to  the  party  without  me  ! 

Mrs  C.  Well,  you  may  comfort  yourself  by  knowing  that  I  shan't 
at  all  enjoy  myself,  Tom. 

Coo.  There's  something  in  that,  to  be  sure ;  but  it  is  hard  when  a 
fellow  has  a  pretty  little  wife,  and  a  snug  little  home,  to  be  obliged  to 
leave  them  for  six  months  in  the  year. 

Mrs.  C.     It  is,  indeed,  Tom.     That  horrid  business  ! 

Coo.  Stop  a  bit !  The  business  isn't  so  particularly  horrid,  after 
all ;  it  pays  the  rent  of  the  snug  little  house,  and  stocks  the  wardrobe 
of  a  pretty  little  wife,  not  to  mention  such  minor  considerations  as  legs 
of  mutton,  coals,  boots,  assessed  taxes,  and  potatoes.  On  the  whole, 
I  rather  like  the  business  than  otherwise.  Besides,  Johnson  has  prom- 
ised to  take  my  place  as  travelling  partner,  after  Christmas. 

Mrs.  C.     O',  that  will  be  deUghtful ! 

Coo.  "Won't  it  ?  Then  we  shall  begin  to  enjoy  ourselves,  if  you 
like  little  trips  in  the  country. 

Mrs.  C.     And  now  and  then  a  box  at  the  opera. 

Coo.  Now  and  then  ;  but  as  a  rule,  I  prefer  Astley's  and  lobster 
suppers. 

Mrs.  C.     And  picnics  in  the  summer. 

Coo.  And  you  to  tie  on  my  shawl  every  morning,  and  give  me  a 
kiss,  and  wave  your  pocket  handkerchief  to  me  when  I'm  top  of  the 
'bus. 

Mrs.  C.  And  get  such  nice  little  dinners  ready  for  you  by  the  time 
you  come  home  in  the  evening. 

Coo.     And  then  shrimps  for  tea. 

Mrs.  C.     And  muffins. 

Coo.  And  cribbage  ;  and  you  not  objecting  to  smoke,  and  little 
drops  of  something  warm  after  supper.  O,  what  a  fairy-like  exist- 
ence ! 

Mrs.  C.     Delicious. 

Coo.  (Looking  at  watch.)  But,  unfortunately,  it  isn't  to  come  off 
till  after  Christmas ;  and  it's  five  and  twenty  minutes  to  six.  I  haven't 
a  minute  to  lose.  Eh  !  where  the  dense  is  —  O,  I  know !  in  that 
room.     {Going  quickly  towards  d')or  of  room  in  "R.,  flat.) 


SCENE    I.]  CRINOLINE.  7 

Mrs.  C.     (^Hastily  intercepting  him.)     What  do  you  want,  dear? 

Coo.     Nothing,  only  my  railway  wrapper. 

Mrs.  C.     It  isn't  there,  dear. 

Coo.  O  yes,  it  is.  I  spread  it  on  the  sofa  when  I  went  to  take  my 
nap,  to  save  the  cover  from  my  boots.     [Gi)iiiff.) 

Mrs.  C.     {Deiainiuff  him.)     Let  me  get  it  for  you,  dear. 

Coo.  Pooh  !  I  might  have  got  it  myself  twenty  times  over  by  this 
time.     (^Looking  at  ivatch.)     It's  only  three  and  twenty  minutes  to  six. 

Mrs.  C.  {Detaining  him.)  No,  'Tom,  really  you  can't  go  into  that 
room  just  now. 

Coo.     Why  net  ? 

Mrs.  C.     Well,  because  you  can't.     In  fact,  there's  somebody  there. 

Coo.  Well,  I  don't  suppose  it's  any  body  I  need  be  very  much 
afraid  of.     {Going.) 

Mrs.  C.  No,  indeed,  Tom,  j'ou  really  must  not.  —  (Aside.)  I  must 
tell  him  a  story.  Bella  is  there  trying  on  a  new  frock  body  with  the 
dressmaker. 

Coo.  Then  why  the  deuse  couldn't  you  say  so  before  ?  I  don't  want 
to  see  Bella  trying  on  her  new  frock  body  with  the  dressmaker. 
There's  my  old  wrapper  in  the  hall,  quite  good  enough  for  Manches- 
ter. By  Jove,  it  only  wants  one  and  twenty  minutes  now  !  Come, 
and  help  me  on  with  my  great  coat,  and  I'll  kiss  you  in  the  passage. 
{Going  towards  c.  D.) 

Enter  Bella,  door,  h.  1  E. 

Bella.  (At  door,  1  e.  R.)  Why,  uncle  Tom,  you're  never  going  with- 
out saying  good  by  to  me,  surely  ? 

Coo.     Bella ! 

Mrs.  C.     (Aside,  R.  c.)     How  very  unfortunate ! 

Coo.  (c.)  Isabella  Coobiddy,  come  here.  (Bella  advances  from 
door.)     Why  are  you  not  in  that  room? 

Bella.     In  that  room,  uncle  ? 

Coo.  Yes  ;  trying  on  a  new  frock  body,  with  the  dressmaker. 
(Mrs.  Coobiddy  makes  signs  to  Bella.) 

Bella.  (Perplexed.)  The  dressmaker  !  O,  really,  —  I,  —  she's 
gone,  uncle,  and  I've  come  out. 

Cod.  May  I  ask  how,  Isabella  Coobiddy  ?  Up  the  chimney  ?  The 
unsullied  purity  of  your  muslin  belies  the  supposition.  Out  of  the 
lawn  windows  ?  It's  raining  cats  and  dogs,  Isabella,  though  I  don't 
see  any  ;  and,  as  the  sporting  gentlemen  say,  you  do  not  appear  to 
have  tiu'ned  a  hair  —  and  you  haven't  come  through  that  door,  Isa- 
bella, for  I've  been  watching  it.     So,  in  short,  how  about  it  ? 

Mrs.  C.     Well,  Tom,  if  you  must  have  the  truth  ! 

Con.  Well,  if  you  happen  to  have  such  a  thing  about  you,  Mrs.  C, 
I  should  like  it. 

Mrs.  C.     Well,  then,  —  I  told  you  a  story,  —  there  ! 

Coo.  (Sits,  c.)  I  had  anticipated  that  portion  of  your  narrative  by 
my  own  unaided  intelligence  —  proceed  ! 

Mrs.  C.  I  had  a  particular  reaton  for  not  wishing  you  to  go  into 
that  room. 


8  CRINOLINE.  [act   1 

Coo.  "Well,  let's  hear  if  it's  a  good  one. 

Mrs.  C.     You  mustn't  ask  me  to  tell  it,  Tom. 

Coo.  O,  you've  another  particular  reason  for  keeping  it  dark,  have 
you  ?     Mrs.  Coobiddy,  I  don't  like  this. 

Mrs.  C.     You,  surely,  cannot  suspect  me  of  any  thing  ^^Tong  ? 

Coo.  {Aside.)  "Well,  it  wouldn't  do  to  confess  it  before  a  third 
party  if  I  did.     I  don't  say  that. 

Mrs.  C.  But  you  mean  it,  apparently,  and  I  won't  put  up  with  it ! 
Here  is  the  key  of  the  room,  sir  ;  use  it  or  not,  as  you  think  fit,  —  only 
if  you  do,  I  warn  you,  I  shall  consider  it  an  end  to  all  confidence  be- 
tween us.  —  {Aside.)     He'll  never  go  in  after  that,  surely  ! 

Coo.  {Rises,  standing  undecidedly,  and  looking  icistfully  at  the  key.) 
"Well,  I  like  that.  I  do  like  that  !  As  if  I  was  the  first  to  withhold 
confidence  !  You  know,  Maria,  I  have  no  secrets  fron\  you.  "Why, 
the  other  night,  when  I  came  home  a  httle  the  worse,  I  told  you  who 
I'd  been  with,  and  what  I  had  taken. 

Mrs.  C.     Pray,  satisfy  your  doubts. 

Coo.  Stuff  and  nonsense !  I  have  no  doubts.  There,  take  the 
key  ;  what  do  I  want  with  it  ? 

Mrs.  C.  I  will  only  accept  it  ■with  the  assurance  that  you  beUeve 
my  little  secret  to  be  perfectly  harmless,  as  I  give  you  my  word  it  is. 

Coo.  Harmless:  of  course  it  is.  —  {Coaxingly.)  But  you  might 
tell  a  fellow.  I'm  a  mighty  inquisitive  chap,  I  know ;  but  I  take  after 
my  mother. 

Mrs.  C.  Y'ou  have  the  remedy  in  your  o\vn  hands.  —  {Aside.) 
He'll  never  use  it,  surely. 

Coo.     {Aside.)     I  really  don't  know  what  to  do. 

Mrs.  C.  Y'ou  had  better  decide,  or  you  will  miss  the  train.  —  {Aside.) 
He's  wavering. 

Coo.  {Gravely.)  Maria  Coobiddy,  I  have  decided.  I  believe  that 
a  suspicious  husband  is  the  most  degraded  of  characters  ;  but,  as,  upon 
serious  reflection,  I  remember  there  is  a  large  hole  in  my  old  wrapper, 
and  as  it's  nearly  a  quarter  to  six,  {goes  up  to  door  in  f.  e.  h.,)  I  shall 
just  go  in  and  fetch  my  new  one.  (  Unlocks  door,  k.  f.,  arid  goes  into 
room.) 

Mrs.  C.  {FalUng  hysterically  into  chair,  c.)  I  didn't  think  he 
would  do  it.     Bella,  I  am  a  rvuned  woman. 

Bella,     (p..)     Good  gracious,  aunt,  how  shocking  ! 

Mrs.  C.  I  know  not  what  to  say  !  But  it  was  all  through  you. 
{Speaks  in  great  agitation.) 

Bella.     "Through  me  ? 

Mrs.  C.  Y'es,  I  was  envious  of  your  superior  youth  and  beauty  ; 
in  a  moment  of  weakness  I  consented,  from  a  wish  to  rival  you. 

Bella.  Well,  I'm  sure !  —  thank  you.  But  I  hope  Captain  Le 
Brown  has  moie  taste 

Mrs.  C.  Do  not  think  too  harshly  of  me,  Bella.  Y'ou  wouldn't 
have  given  way,  I  know  ;  but  I  am  justly  punished.  He  comes,  and 
knows  the  worst.  {Reenter  Coobiddy,  e.  d.  f.  He  looks  very  grave  and 
mysterious.) 

Coo.     (c.)     Mrs.  Coobiddy. 

Mrs.  C.     (r.  c,  trembling.)     Yes,  Tom. 


SCENE    I.]  CRINOLINE.  9 

Coo.     I  have  been  in  that  blue  chamber  of  mystery. 

Mrs.  C.     I  know,  Tom. 

Coo.  And  it  is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  I  have  there  discov- 
ered   

Mrs.  C.     Yes,  Tom. 

Coo.  (^Looking  angrily  at  c.  D.,  which  has  been  agitated.")  What's 
the  matter  with  that  door  ? 

Mrs.  C.     (r.  c.)     Which  door? 

Coo.    That  one. 

Mrs.  C.     It's  the  wind,  I  suppose. 

Coo.  Then  I  wish  the  wind  would  mind  its  own  business,  and  not 
interrupt  people  at  critical  moments.  I  say,  that  in  that  room  I  have 
discovered 

Mrs,  C.     I  am  listening,  Tom. 

Coo.     Nothing  whatever. 

Mrs.  C.     {Looking  up.)     No. 

Coo.  Not  even  my  railway  wrapper,  which  I  now  remember  to 
have  —  {turning  angrily  tmcards  door,  C. )     Will  you  be  quiet,  wind  ? 

Mrs.  C.  (Aside  to  Bella,  o)i  r.)  He  has  escaped  by  the  lawn 
window,  to  spare  my  shame.  Devoted  creature  —  I  could  hug  him 
for  it. 

Bella.  {Aside,  R.  H.)  Well,  I'm  sure  !  A  pretty  sort  of  an  aunt 
I've  got !  —  and  he  to  call  himself  a  captain  ! 

Mrs.  C.  {Aside  to  Bella.)  0,  Bella,  this  shall  be  a  warning  to 
me ! 

Bella.  {In  reply.)  1  hope  so,  ma'am  ;  but  don't  come  too  near  me, 
if  you  please. 

Coo.     {Sternly.)     Well,  madam ! 

Mrs.  C.  {Aside  to  Bella.)  Fear  nothing,  dear ;  we  are  quite  safe 
now.     (Bella  bounces  away  from  her  indignantly.) 

Mrs.  C.  {  To  CooBiDDY,  with  forced  laughter.)  Why,  you  stupid 
creature,  don't  you  see  that 

Coo.  I  can't  see  any  thing  while  that  confounded  door  keeps  rat- 
tling so.  {The  movement  of  the  c.  door  is  suddenly  stilled.)  Don't  I 
Bee  what  ? 

Mrs.  C,     {Giggling.)     That  we  have  been  making  a  fool  of  you. 

Bella.    Don't  say  "  we,"  if  you  jjleaso,  aunt. 

Coo.  You  have  been  making  a  ibol  of  me  ?  Do  you  know,  !Mrs. 
Coobiddy,  I  had  some  suspicion  to  that  effect,  from  the  beginning  ? 
and  I  feel  by  no  means  assured  on  the  subject  at  present.  I  advise 
you  not  to  try  it  on  again  in  any  way,  —  some  ways,  especially,  {look- 
ing angrily  towards  c.  d.,  which  is  again  agitated.)  'I'here  must  be 
something  more  in  the  wind  than  I  know  of ;  that  door  was  all  right 
yesterday.  I  was  about  to  say  that  it  only  wants  twelve  minutes  to 
six,  and  as  I  now  remember  having  put  my  wrapper  in  this  cujiboard 
—  {Crosses  toioards  door,  L.  1  E.  Nancy  Bini^iis,  icJio  has  been  agita- 
ting the  door,  C,  bursts  into  the  room,  runs  duion  to  L.  1  e.,  and  places 
her  back  against  the  door,  haviri,g  previously  abstracted  the  key,  which 
she  conceals.) 

Nancy.  {Hurriedly  warding  Coohiddy  off  from  the  door.)  Quite  a 
mistake,  sir!     It  ain't  here  —  I  took  it  up  stairs,  myself.     You  had 


10  CKINOLIXE.  [act   I. 

better,  all  three,  go  up  and  runamage  for  it,  or  you'll  miss  the  train, 
sir. 

Mrs.  C.     (R.  c.)     Is  the  woman  mad  ? 

Bella,     (r.  h.)     If  not,  she's  tipsy. 

Xancy.  {At  door,  L.  h.  1  E.)  Ho,  indeed  !  there's  a  chalk  for  both 
of  you. 

Coa.     Nancy  Bitters,  will  you  allow  me  to  come  to  that  cupboard  ? 

Nancy.  {Withdrawing from  door.)  Certainly,  sir,  if  you  wish  it; 
but  I  warn  you,  you  are  wasting  time. 

Coo.     I  will  trouble  you  for  the  key. 

Xaitci/.  The  key.  sir?  Bless  you,  sir,  the  key  of  that  there  cup- 
board has  been  lost  this  fortnight. 

Bella.     1  saw  her  put  it  into  her  pocket  not  a  minute  ago. 

Xaiioj.  {Aside.)  You  did,  did  you  r  —  you'll  owe  me  one  more 
for  that.  Sir,  I  can  only  say  this  is  not  the  first  time  I've  had  to  de- 
plore that  there  young  person's  habit  of  speaking  the  imtruth,  and  I'm 
sick  of  shielding  her. 

Mrs.  C.  (r.  c.)  You  intolerable  hussey  !  how  dare  you  ?  Mr. 
Coobiddy,  force  that  cupboard  door  open ;  it's  my  belief  that  the  crea- 
ture  

Xanci/.  Don't  call  me  a  creature,  Mrs.  Coobiddy,  or  I'U  let  out 
upon  you. 

Coo.     "Woman,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Xaiwy.  O,  you're  going  to  call  me  names,  too,  Mr.  Coobiddy.  I 
shan't  open  my  mouth  —  though,  gracious  knows,  I've  kept  it  shut 
long  enough.  —  {Aside.)  I'm  safe  for  the  sack,  so  I  may  as  well  make 
'era  all  imcomfortable.  Xo,  sir,  not  a  word,  if  you  was  to  trample  me 
to  death  with  elephants. 

Mrs.  C.  She  has  either  got  concealed  in  that  closet  some  of  my 
missing  propeity,  which  I  taxed  her  with  stealing  this  morning,  or 
else  one  of  her  fellows. 

Xancy.  One  of  my  fellows  ?  Ho,  indeed  !  Pray  make  sure, 
mim,  that  it  am't  one  of  your  fellows,  which  I  have  concealed  to 
screen  you.  —  {Aside.)  That  was  pretty  well  thought  on,  considering 
the  hurry  of  the  moment. 

Coo.     Anne  Bitters  !  spinster  !     Explain  yourself. 

Xancy.  Mr.  Coobiddy,  you're  a  pore  creetur,  sir,  and  has  my 
warmest  sj-mpathies  —  that's  what  you  are. 

Mrs.  C.  Mr.  Coobiddy,  will  you  force  open  that  closet  r  or  do  you 
wkh  to  hear  me  further  insulted  r 

Coo.  Mrs.  or  MLss  Bitters,  unless  you  at  once  shut  your  mouth  and 
open  the  cupboard,  you'll  see  what  I  ^\-ill  send  you,  which  wUl  most 
probably  be  in  the  form  of  a  policeman. 

Xancy.     A  policeman  !     Ho,  indeed  !     That's  your  idea  —  is  it  ? 

Mrs.  C.  Bella,  open  the  front  door,  and  scream  for  one.  (Bella 
is  going  up,  ii.,  toicards  C.  I).) 

Xancy.  Stop,  mim.  (Bella  stops.)  You  are  determined  on  a 
policeman,  are  yon,  sir  ? 

Coo.     Emphatically. 

Mrs.  C.     I  should  think  so. 

Bella.  I'here's  generally  one  at  the  area  railings  at  this  time  of  tha 
aftenioon. 


BCBNE    I.]  CRINOLINE.  11 

Nancy.  Stop,  mim.  (Bella  stops.)  If  you  must  have  a  police- 
man, and  as  it  is  as  well  to  keep  scandal  from  getting  beyond  the 
premises,  {opens  door,  L.  h.  1  e.,)  John  Liptrot,  come  out  of  that ! 
(John  Liptrot,  a  policeman,  comes  out  from  door,  1  e.  l.  h.,  boiomg 
confusedly.') 

Mrs.  C.     I  knew  it. 

Bella.     I  was  sure  of  it. 

Mrs.  C.  Mr.  Coobiddy,  pay  the  wretch  a  month's  wages,  and  send 
her  about  her  business  ;  but  mind  she  doesn't  leave  the  house  till  I 
have  examined  her  boxes. 

Nancy.  (^Asidc.)  Ho,  indeed  !  You  owe  me  one  and  a  few  more ; 
and  I'U  have  'em  all  out  of  you  before  I  go. 

Mrs.  C.  Mr.  Coobiddy,  you  wiU  also  please  to  take  that  police- 
man's number,  and  report  him  at  Scotland  Yard.  Bella,  give  me  your 
arm :  we  must  not  stay  to  be  further  insulted. 

Bella.  {Draioi/ig  back.)  Thank  you,  aunt  —  there  are  certain  mat- 
ters to  be  explained  between  us. 

Mrs.  C.  You  goose,  I  can  explain  every  thing.  Come  along. 
{Exeunt  Bella  and  Mrs.  Coobiddy,  r.  d.  1  e.) 

Coo.  Now,  really,  this  is  very  annoying.  I've  missed  the  train  ; 
and  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  Policeman,  I  suppose  it 
would  be  a  mere  matter  of  form  if  I  were  to  ask  you  to  take  yourself 
into  custody  ?  (John  touches  his  hat.)  But  allow  me  to  ask  you,  as 
a  friend,  whether  you  consider  that  cupboard  a  portion  of  your  official 
beat  ? 

Nancy.  {Nudges  John  not  to  speak.  Sentimentally.)  Surely  a  ten- 
der-hearted, lovable  gentleman  like  yourself,  Mr.  Coobiddy,  wouldn't 
prevent  a  pore  gal  from  forming  an  honest  attachment  ? 

Coo.  A  poor  girl !  Stop  a  bit!  Anne  Bitters,  spinster  !  {Sits  c.) 
Your  outward  appearance  gives  me  the  idea  of  the  ripest  imaginable 
six  and  thirty 

Nancy,  (l.  c.)  Four  and  twenty.  I  assure  you,  sir,  we  are  a 
fine-grown  family,  and  matures  early.  Some  of  us  at  forty  would 
astonish  you. 

Coo.     But  what  right  has  that  policeman 

Nancy.  {Aside  to  John.)  Say  as  I  say,  you  fool !  Well,  sir,  the 
fact  is,  if  you  must  know,  which  I  am  loath  to  tell  it,  he  was  called  in. 

Coo.     Called  in  ? 

Nancy.  "Well,  after  all,  it's  my  duty,  and  know  it  you  must  sooner 
or  later.  I  could  not  abear  it  no  longer,  sir.  I  couldn't  stand  to  see  a 
handsome,  well-grown  gentleman  like  yourself,  with  every  quality  to 
charm  the  hi  and  win  tlie  heart • 

John.     {jj.  K.,  aside.)     Dror  it  mQd,  Anne. 

Nancy,  (c.)  And  what's  more,  sir,  I  wouldn't.  No  !  I  says  I 
can  make  every  allowance  for  the  llightiness  of  a  young  married  wo- 
man ;  and  Mr.  Coobiddy  being  absent  on  business  six  months  in  the 
year,  is  certainly  some  excuse. 

Coo.     (r.  c.)     Good  Heavens  !     What  do  you  mean  ? 

Nancy.  Bless  you,  sir,  I  have  spoken  to  her,  over  and  over  again, 
like  a  mother  —  I  mean  like  a  sister  a  year  or  two  older  ;  but,  lor  ! 
what  could  I  do  agaia  officers  in  the  army  and  navy,  and  medical 
etudents  i 


12  cRrN'OLrxi!.  [act  i. 

Coo.     {^Aghast.^     Officers  in  the  army  ! 

Nancy.  And  na^•^^  sir ;  but  especially  in  the  medical  perfession. 
You  have  no  idea  of  the  goings  on  in  your  absence  I  but  at  last  mortal 
patience  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  I  was  determined  your  property 
should  be  protected  this  time,  so  I  called  in  John. 

John.     Yes,  sir,  she  called  me  in,  sure  enough. 

Coo.     My  property  !     "Woman,  what  do  )-ou  mean  ? 

Nancy.  Lord  bless  your  blindness,  sir  !  Haven't  you  noticed  a 
great  falling  off  in  your  stock  of  neat  ■nines,  bottled  porter,  and 
spirituous  liquors  ? 

Coo.     I  have  !  I  have  ! 

Nancy.  And  an  equally  astonishing  heaping  up  of  butchers'  and 
grocers'  bills  r 

Coo.    True  I  true  ! 

Nancy.  Bless  you,  sir,  nothing  was  too  good  for  them  —  game  pies, 
anchovies,  lobster  salad,  and  the  choicest  Hawannahs. 

Coo.     O,  this  is  an  infamous  calumny,  scorpion  ! 

Naticy.     Well,  I'm  sure  ! 

Coo.  How  dare  you  accuse  an  angel  of  innocence  like  Mrs. 
Coobiddy  ? 

Nancy.     O,  dear,  no,  sir  !  not  for  worlds  !     If  I'm  to  be  called  out 

of  names {^Going.     Returns.')     A  month's  wages,  if  you  please, 

and  wishing  you  a  pleasant  trip  to  the  north. 

Coo.  (Aside.)  This  is  too  horrible.  I  thought  such  things  only 
happened  in  French  novels  ;  and  yet  that  mysterious  room.  Tell  me, 
woman,  as  you  hope  to  be  married,  had  you  any  suspicion  of  any 
body  being  concealed  in  that  apartment  ? 

Nancy.  Had  Ir — (^Aside.)  "What's  the  fool  driving  at?  Bless 
you,  sir,  there's  always  somebody  concealed  there. 

Coo.     But  I  have  looked  in  the  room. 

Nancy.  Not  under  the  sofa,  sir  !  That's  where  they  hide  in  gen- 
eral. Look  again,  sir.  (Coobiddt  rushes  into  the  room,  R.  d.,  in 
flat.) 

Nancy.  1  believe  I  have  put  a  spoke  or  two  in  Mrs.  C's  wheel. 
John  Liptrot,  go  do-\^Ti  in  the  kitchen;  you'll  find  a  pidgingpie  on  the 
dresser,  and  a  humbrella  containing  perquisites  imder  it  :  you'd  better 
be  off  -with  both. 

John.  Pigeon  pies,  Anne,  is  all  in  the  way  of  business ;  but  loaded 
umbrellas  is  larceny.  I'U  attend  to  the  pie.  (^Exit,  c.  d.  Coobiddy 
rushes  out  of  room,  B.  D.,  in  flat,  pale  and  agitated,  with  an  open  htter 
in  his  hand.) 

Coo.     Anne  Bitters,  spinster  ! 

Nancy.     Sir. 

Coo.     Can  you  read  ? 

Nancy.     Printing  hand,  sir. 

Coo.  Ah,  this  is  ^^Titten  hand  !  I  found  it  hing  on  the  table. 
You  will  observe  that  this  letter  is  addressed  to  Mrs.  Coobiddy.  You 
can  make  that  out  ? 

Nancy.     Ah  —  m  —  yes,  sir,  perfectly. 

Coo.  (a.  c.)  Now  listen.  (^Reads  in  a  tragic  voice.)  "  Seeing  as 
how  the  company,  K  U  M  company  —  didn't  seem  inclined  to  slope,  I 


BCENE    I.]  CRINOLINE.  13 

hooked  it  out  of  the  lawn  winders.  WINDERS  —  Winders.  I 
have  took  it  with  me.  It  shall  be  all  right.  I'll  be  in  time  for  you 
to  go  to  the  party,  never  fear.  I'll  be  at  the  Hairey  Gate.  H  A  I  R- 
E  Y  —  Hairey  !  at  seven  o'clock.  I'll  whLstle  '  Pop  goes  the  weasel ! ' 
Your  gal  can  let  me  in.  Bless  you,  I  am  up  to  these  sort  of  dodges, 
having  had  a  many  such  affairs  on  my  hands,  and  ope  I  know  how  to 
manage  'em  with  proper  delicacy.     Y'^ours  most  E  F  —  efeckshimately, 

•'JACOB   GRIMES." 
Now  who  is  Grimes  ? 

Nancy.     One  of  the  lot,  sir. 

Coo.  '  The  lot  ?     O  Heavens  !     What  is  Grimes  ? 

Nancy.     In  the  dragoons,  sir  —  a  cornet. 

Coo.     A  piston  ? 

Nancy.     O,  dear,  no,  sir — the  real  thing. 

Coo.  But  you  don't  mean  to  say  this  execrable  scrawl  and  pos- 
itively criminal  orthogiaphy  are  the  work  of  an  officer  in  her  majes- 
ty's service  r 

Nancy.  Lor  bless  you,  sir,  haven't  you  read  the  divulgences  in  the 
newspapers  about  officers  exasperating  their  h's  and  spelling  colonel 
with  a  k  ? 

Cuo.  True,  too  true  !  and  this  is  the  end  of  my  dream  of  do- 
mestic life.  Farewell  to  the  lobster  suppers,  the  cribbage  party  in  the 
summer,  the  picnic  after  tea,  and  the  little  drop  of  something  warm  on 
the  box  seat  of  Astley's  Italian  omnibus.  Coobiddy's  occupation's 
gone.     (^Sinks  in  chair,  c,  then  starts  up.)     Anne  Bitters,  spinster  ! 

Nancy.     Sir. 

Coo.     What  sort  of  a  man  is  Grimes  ? 

Nancy.  Ahem  !  what  you'd  call  a  military  looking  sort  of  a  man, 
Bir. 

Coo.     Tall  ? 

Nancy.     Well,  tallish. 

Coo.     Of  gentlemanly  but  repulsive  aspect  ? 

Nancy.     That's  him,  sir. 

Coo.  The  individual  I  allude  to  has  an  all-round  collar,  and  a 
tendency  to  carrots. 

Nancy.     That's  Grimes,  sir. 

Coo.  He  has  a  habit  of  twiddUng  his  moustache,  which  I  believe 
to  be  as  false  as  himself. 

Nancy.     You've  hit  him  off  to  a  T,  sir. 

Coo.  I'll  hit  him  off  to  Jericho  !  Why,  I've  noticed  that  fellow 
prowling  about  the  house  for  the  last  two  days.  I  thought,  perhaps, 
he  lived  in  the  neighborhood.  I  trod  on  his  toe  as  I  turned  the  cor- 
ner, near  the  lawn  gate,  as  I  came  in,  and  he  begged  my  pardon —  I 
hope  I  scrunched  his  favorite  corn.     Aime  Bitters  ! 

Nancy.     Sir ! 

Coo.     Look  at  me. 

Nancy.  I  do,  sir ;  and  a  fine  growd  gentleman  you  are  of  your 
inches. 

Coo.  It  is  a  question  of  inches.  How  much  bigger  do  you  suppose 
the  infamous  Grimes  to  be  than  myself  ? 

Nancy.    Very  trifling,  sir  ;  a  foot  and  a  half,  there  or  thereabouts. 
2 


H  cnrNOLixE.  [act  i. 

Coo.  But  don't  you  think,  armed  ■with  a  righteous  cause,  and  a 
thick  stick,  I  should  j:;et  the  best  of  him  in  a  fair  stand  up  tight,  if  I 
■R-ere  to  come  suddenly  upon  him  behind. 

Nancy.     No  questi(jn  on  it. 

Coo.  Then  I  ^vill  submit  my  honor  to  the  terrible  ordeal  of  battle. 
I  have  pistols  and  other  tire  irons  on  the  premises.  Grimes  shall  meet 
"nith  a  reception  he  little  anticipates.  {Looks  at  his  ivatch.)  Five  and 
twenty  to  seven.  In  five  and  twenty  minutes  the  hated  melody  of 
"  Pop  goes  the  weasel,"  will  be  sounded  at  my  area  railing.  I  think 
he  said  seven.  (Consults  iiote.)  Yes — "At  the  Ilairey  Gate  at 
seven  o'clock."  O,  domestic  visions  !  —  quiet  evenings  !  —  cold  beef 
and  pickles  ! 

Nancy.     Very  natural  on  yoiu-  part,  sir  ;   but  be  calm,  sir. 

Coo.  By  no  means,  Anne  Bitters  !  It  would  never  do  for  me  to  be 
calm.  I  must  get  myself  into  a  terrible  passion,  or  Grimes  will  prob- 
ably have  the  best  of  me.  I  will  exasperate  myself  by  reading  his  de- 
tested note  again.  {Looks  at  7io/e.)  Heartless  villain  !  "  I  am  up 
to  these  sort  of  dodges,  having  had  many  affairs  on  my  hands  !  "  Don 
Giovanni  !  glorying  in  his  villany  —  boasting  of  it  to  his  ■snctim  ! 

Nancy.  {Aside.)  "Well,  there's  one  comlbit,  they'll  remember  me 
when  I'm  gone. 

Coo.     And  he  signs  himself,  "  Yours  E.  F.  —  efeckshunately." 

Nancy.     "Well,  of  course  he'd  do  that. 

Coo.  But  I'll  have  his  blood  !  Y'es  !  I've  worked  myself  up  to  the 
proper  pitch  of  ferocity,  and  I'll  have  his  blood,  unless  he  should  make 
very  serious  opposition.  {Lookiny  again  at  note.)  "  I  hooked  it  out 
of  the  lawn  winders  —  I "     Good  Heavens  !  Anne  Bitters  ! 

Nancy.     Sir  ! 

Coo.  Here  is  a  fearful  passage  unexplained.  "  I  have  took  it  with 
me  —  it  shall  be  all  right !  "     What  does  he  mean  by  it  ? 

Nancy.  Pray  don't  ask  me,  sir  ;  I've  said  qmte  as  much  as  becomes 
me. 

Coo.     {Seizing  her  arm.)     "Woman  !  I  will  know  all. 

Nancy.  Don't  call  me  woman,  ili\  Coobiddy  ?  But  remember  you 
are  addressing  a  female. 

Coo.  (  Ocerconie.)  And  to  think  at  the  present  moment  I  might 
have  been  enjoying  a  quiet  cup  of  tepid  coffee  at  the  AVolverton  station. 
{Looking  at  tcatch.)  Nineteen  minutes  to  seven!  Anne  Bitters,  m 
there  a  frjang-pan  in  the  kitchen  ?     {Going  up  to  c.  d.) 

Nancy.  Lor,  yes,  to  be  sure,  sir  ;  but  what  do  you  want  with  a 
frj-ing-pan,  sir  ?     (l.) 

Coo.     To  dry  some  gunpowder.  {Exit,  c.  d.) 

Nancy.  {Solus.)  "Well,  I  don't  think  they'll  forget  poor  Nancy 
Bitters  in  a  huny,  in  this  here  afflicted  establishment ;  and  I  think  I 
may  as  well  go  and  look  after  my  boxes.  {Going  to  c.  d.  Captain 
Le  Browx  puts  his  head  i)i  at  R.  D.,  in  flat.) 

Cap.     {CautioMly.)     S-s-tt !     Nancy? 

Nancy.     "Who's  there  r  Be  off  !     There's  a  policeman  within  call. 

Cap.     {Coming  down,  R.  H.)     It's  only  I,  Nancy  ! 

Nancy,  (l.  h.)  O,  it's  you.  Captain  Le  Brown  !  And  where 
iid  you  come  from  ? 


SCENE    I.  CRINOLINE.  15 

Cap.  (c.)  Through  the  lawTi  -windows  :  I  have  been  watching  for 
the  opportunity  for  two  days.  Burglarious  as  is  the  proceeding,  it  is 
justitied  by  the  exigencies  of  the  case  —  I  wished  for  an  opportunity 
of  speaking  to  you  alone. 

Nancy.  Keep  your  distance,  Captain  Le  Brown  !  I'm  only  a  pore 
gal,  but  of  respectable  parients.  —  (^Asidc. )  He  is  the  supposed  Grimes, 
evidently. 

Cap.  Pshaw !  Nonsense !  You  know  my  devoted  attachment 
to  Miss  Bella. 

Nancy.     Well,  there's  no  accounting  for  tastes. 

Cap.  You  know  I  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  defy  the  objections 
of  my  family  to  a  union  with  a  tradesman's  daughter,  and  to-day  I 
had  promised  to  declare  myself  to  IMrs.  Coobiddy's  family. 

Nancy.     Well,  then,  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to. 

Cap.  Thank  you,  I  have  no  longer  any  such  intention,  unless  it  is 
in  your  power  to  clear  up  a  terrible  suspicion. 

Nancy.  Then  I  assure  you  it  isn't,  so  you  may  be  prepared  for  the 
worst.  —  (^Asicle.)  As  I'm  gomg  away,  I  ain't  going  to  clear  up  noth- 
ing. 

Cap.  You,  perhaps,  do  not  understand  me  ;  I  scarcely  know  how 
to  express  myself —  the  question  is  a  delicate  one. 

Nancy.  Then,  pray  don't  ask  it  of  me.  I  am  only  a  pore  gal ; 
but 

Cap.  You  said  that  before,  Nancy.  I  have  noticed,  within  the 
last  two  days,  an  individual  coming  and  going  from  this  house  ;  an 
individual  who,  —  I  wish  to  put  it  as  delicately  as  I  can,  —  though  of 
the  male  sex,  is  not  what  Ave  usually  call  a  gentleman. 

Nancy.  I  should  think  not !  —  (^Aside.)  What,  in  the  name  of 
fate 

Cap.  From  unmistakable  signs  which  that  individual  has  carried 
with  him,  I  argue  that  his  visits  have  been  to  a  lady  residing  in  the 
house  —  you  understand  me. 

Nancy.     Perfectly. —  {Aaide.')     Blessed  if  I  do  ! 

Cap.  Nancj'  Bitters,  assure  mo  that  his  visits  have  not  been  to  the 
idol  of  my  affections,  and  you  will  not  only  make  me  a  happy  man, 
but  I  will  owe  you  another  sovereign. 

Nancy.     You  don't  happen  to  have  one  about  you,  do  you? 

Cap.     Confound  it,  I  am  always  forgetting  my  purse. 

Nancy.     Then  don't  flatter  yourself.     Miss  Bella  is  the  party. 

Cap.  I  knew  it.  Enough  !  all  is  over  !  I  will  fly  to  other  climes 
and  forget  her.  {Goiny  yp  toicards  door,  ii.  f.)  I  coidd  have  over- 
looked an  uncle  in  the  Manchester  trade  —  even  a  father,  who  had 
borne  the  stigma  of  wholesale  grocery.  But  John  Edward  Le  Brown 
has  too  much  of  the  proud  blood  of  liis  ancestors  in  his  veins  to  marry 

a  woman  capable  of {Trying  to  open  door,  it.  f.)  What  the  devil's 

the  matter  with  this  door  ? 

Nancy.     (i>.)     Hadn't  you  better  go  out  of  the  front  door,  captain  ? 

Cap.  No,  I  would  depart  as  I  came  ;  I  would  have  nobody  see  me 
in  this  establishment.  I  would  be  forgotten,  or  only  remembered  to 
be  detested  and  reviled.  Confound  the  latch !  —  and  here's  somebody 
coming.     [Nancy  runs  out,  c.  d.) 


16  CRINOLINE.  [a'cT   U 

Enter  Bella,  door,  n.  n.  1  e. 

Bella.     (Aside.)     I  really  cannot  understand  aunt  Maria  ;  she  seems 

perfectly  innocent,  and  says  she  will  explain  all  this  evening ;  but 

{^Sceinp  Captaix  at  door,  R.  f.,  screams.)     Ah  ! 

Cap.  {Boicing  confusedly.)  Madam,  you  observe  —  the — handle 
has  come  off  in  my  hand,  otherwise 

Bella.  You  would  have  escaped  without  my  seeing  you.  Captain 
Le  Brown. 

CajJ.  {Stiffly.)  I  confess  I  had  no  wish  to  incur  the  pam  of  an  in- 
terview with  yourself,  madam.     (Coming  down,  L.  c.) 

Bella.  No,  I  dare  say  not.  I  will  bruig  it  to  a  close,  sir,  by  in- 
forming you  that  I'm  acquainted  ^^■ith  your  motive  for  breaking  into 
my  uncle's  house  like  a  thief. 

Cap.  In  that  case  the  necessity  of  a  great  deal  of  explanation  is 
saved.     I  need  not  inform  you,  madam,  that  all  is  over  between  us. 

Bella.     I  should  so,  ijideed,  after  your  conduct. 

Cap.  My  condiict,  madam,  though  perhaps  indiscreet,  and  even 
illegal,  I  consider  thoroughly  justified  by  the  excess  of  my  love. 

Bella.     And  you  dare  avow  this  to  me  ? 

Cap.  I  dare  avow  it  to  all  the  world,  but  that  I  have  no  wish  to 
expose  you. 

Bella.  (Aside.)  The  wretch!  He  alludes  to  my  love  letters; 
and  I  believed  this  man  to  be  the  soul  of  honor.  But  are  there  not 
others  who  have  still  more  to  dread  from  exposure?  Have  you  no 
consideration  for  my  poor  uncle's  feelings? 

Cap.     Not  a  bit !     He  oughtn't  to  allow  such  things  in  his  family. 

Bella.  (Aside.)  I  never  heard  of  such  a  monster !  At  least  have 
some  pity  for  my  aunt. 

Cap.    I  don't  care  a snuff  for  your  aunt. 

Bella.     Ah ! 

Cap.  If  your  aunt  was  to  come  here,  I'd  tell  her  that  she's  not  fit 
to  have  the  charge  of  yoimg  people.     (  Walking  up  and  dotvn  stage.) 

Bella.  (Aside.)  What  incredible  heartlessness !  "NVretch  !  And 
whose  fault  is  it  if  she  isn't  ? 

Cap.    How  do  I  know  ?     Perhaps  she  is  a  fool,  and  can't  help  it. 

Bella.     I  can  bear  this  no  longer.     (Sinks  in  chair,  C.) 

Enter  Coobiddt,  c.  d.,  armed  with  a  bludgeon  aiid  horse  pistol. 

Bella.  O,  uncle,  save  me  from  that  wretch  !  the  destroyer  of 
your  happiness  and  mine  ! 

Coo.  (In  a  loio  voice.)  I  am  aware  of  it,  Bella.  — (To  Captain.) 
Grimes,  you  are  before  your  time. 

Cap.  My  name  is  not  Grimes,  sir  !  (Going  up  to  him.)  But  thai 
is  of  little  consequence.  I  should  advise  you  to  keep  a  better  eye  upon 
the  female  members  of  your  household  than  you  have  done. 

Crto.     (c.)     O,  Heavens  !     Do  you  think.  Grimes 

Cap.    (L.)     My  name  is  not  Grimes,  sir. 

Coo.    No  matter.     I  ask,  is  it  your  opinion,  cornet ■ 

Cap.     I  was  gazetted  to  a  captaincy  last  week. 


SCENE  I.]  CHIXOLINE.  17 

Coo.  I  congratulate  you.  I  -was  about  to  ask  you,  Captain  G.,  if 
you  think  you  are  the  proper  person  to  lecture  me  on  the  moral  state 
of  my  family. 

Cap.  '  AVhy  not,  sir  ? 

Coo.     Well,  after  you  have  brought  miserj'  and  despair  into  it. 

Cap.  It  is  the  lady's  fault,  not  mine,  sir  !  I  have  found  her  to  be 
unworthy  of  my  aifections,  and  I  renounce  her. 

Coo.     (^Aside.)     And  to  think  that  I  dare  not  even  hit  him  ! 

Bella,  (k.)  This,  then,  is  the  poor  MTetch's  reward  for  sacrificing 
her  duty  to  her  family. 

Coo.  {Aside)  How  beautifully  she  takes  my  part !  0,  what  a 
miserable  coward  I  am  !  ' 

Cap.  I  am  not  aware  that  the  lady  made  any  great  sacrifice  ;  she 
is,  perhaps,  to  be  pitied  for  the  loss  she  will  experience,  that  is'all. 

Bella.  {Faltinc/  on  Coobiddy's  7ieck.)  O,  uncle  !  And  I  have 
loved  this  man  ! 

Coo.  You  ?  On  horror's  head,  horrors  !  —  what  do  j'ou  call  it  ? 
This  is  more  than  I  bargained  for. 

Bella.  Yes ;  he  was  to  have  asked  your  consent  to  our  marriage  to- 
day, but  for  this  frightful  discovery. 

Coo.  (Aside.)  His  back  is  turned !  Courage,  Coobiddy,  and  at 
him.     (Moves  to  attack  the  Captaix.) 

Cap.     (Turui)iy  round.)     Now,  then,  what's  the  matter? 

Coo.     ( Concealitig  iveapons.)     N nothing  ! 

Cap.     What  are  you  doing  with  those  ridiculous  weapons  ? 

Coo.  I  was  about  to  start  for  Manchester,  and  I  always  travel 
armed.  —  (^Aside.)  O,  dastard  !  Pitiful,  miserable  poltroon  !  (  Beats 
himself  icith  weapons.)  O,  if  I  could  only  exasperate  myself  to  the 
proper  pitch  !     (Crosses  to  R.) 

Bella,  (c.  To  Captain.)  Enough  !  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  be 
gone !  Leave  this  house,  \\  hose  peace  you  have  destroyed  !  I  trust 
that  years  of  penitence  and  atonement  may  reconcile  you  with  your 
guilty  conscience. 

Cap.  (Aside.)  By  Jove,  any  body  would  think  I  was  the  greatest 
scoundrel  alive  !  I  dare  say  I  shall  soon  get  over  it,  madam.  (Bowing 
to  u'ithdraw.) 

Coo.  (Aside.)  He  shan't  escape  me  !  I'm  warming  up.  (Goes 
up,  R.,  and  (jets  to  c.  D.)     Hold,  (irimes  ! 

Cap.  (  Taming,  L.  H.)  I  have  told  you,  sir,  that  my  name  is  not 
Grimes. 

Coo.  No  matter.  Allow  me  to  tell  you,  that  I  consider  you  the 
most  infernally  hardened  scoundrel  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  (Strife- 
ing  at  his  toes  trilh  bludgeon.) 

Cap.     Be  moderate,  sir. 

Coo.  I  won't ;  my  blood's  up!  If  you'd  waited  for  your  appoint- 
ment at  seven  o'clock,  I  should  have  been  prepared  to  meet  you  ;  but 
you  took  a  mean  advantage  by  coming  a  quarter  of  an  hour  too  soon, 
before  I  had  practised  my  ctjurage. 

Cap.     (Astonished.      To  Bella,  r.  h.)     Is  your  uncle  mad  ? 

Coo.  (c.  Wildly.)  No  —  yes,  sir.  Ilamping  mad.  I  have  worked 
2  « 


18  CRIXOLIXE.  [act    I. 

myself  up  by  degrees,  and  will  liave  it  out,  if  you  please.  You  come 
here  luaking;  love  to  my  big  brother's  daughter. 

Cap.     Well,  sir. 

Coo.  You're  another,  sir  !  It  isn't  well.  After  having  previously 
supplanted  me  in  the  affections  of  my  wife 

Cap,     {Astounded.)     Yoiir  Avhat  ? 

Enter  Mrs.  CooBrnDT,  door  k.  h.  1  e.,  in  ball  dress,  icithout  crinoline. 

Mrs.  C.  (r.)  "What,  Tom,  dear,  haven't  you  gone?  Bella,  it  is 
time  3^ou  were  dressed.  {^Courtesy ing  distantly  to  Captaix.)  I  don't 
think  I  know  this  gentleman. 

Cap.     (^Bowing. politely.')     Madam ! 

Coo.  '  (c,  Excited.)  O,  I  dare  say !  It's  too  late  in  the  day  for 
that  sort  of  gammon.  Woman  —  I  know  him,  and  all  about  him. 
He  is  your  paramour.  Grimes. 

Mrs.  C.     Ah  ! 

Cap.  (^Angrily,  L.)  I  have  told  you,  sir,  repeatedly,  that  my 
name  is  not  Grimes.  I  never  saw  this  lady  before  in  the  whole  course 
of  my  life. 

Coo.    Pickles ! 

Bella,  (v..  c.)  Uncle,  not  two  minutes  ago  he  told  me  all  about 
his  extreme  love  for  her,  excusing  his  conduct. 

Cap.     (L.)     Who  —  I  ? 

Bella.  And  not  two  nunutes  afterwards  you  admitted  you  didn't 
care  a  snuff  for  her. 

Mrs.  C.     (r.)     I  vow  I  never  set  eyes  on  the  man. 

Bella.  O,  aunt !  you  know  you  confessed  to  me  yourself,  that  in  a 
moment  of  weakness  you  had  consented  to  be  my  rival. 

Coo.     (c.)     Answer  that,  ma'am. 

Mrs.  C.  Good  Heavens  !  what  a  fearful  misunderstanding !  — 
(^Crossing  to  R.  c.)  Tom,  I  can  explain  all  when  we  are  alone.  This 
gentleman  is  an  utter  stranger  to  me. 

Coo.  O,  I'm  not  to  be  humbugged  !  I've  screwed  my  courage  up 
to  the  sticking  —  what's  o'name.  I'm  not  going  to  be  at  the  trouble 
for  nothing.  Grimes,  choose  your  weapons.  (^Presenting  cudgel  and 
pistol  to  Captain-.)     I'll  keep  the  pistol. 

Cap.     How  often  am  I  to  tell  you  that  my  name  is  not  Grimes  ? 

Coo.  I  don't  care  whether  you  WTite  in  your  owii  name,  or  a  false 
one.  I  have  your  letter,  sir.  I  found  it  in  that  room,  sir,  in  that 
room,  ma'am.  You  had  taken  it  away  ■with  you,  —  it  would  be  all 
right  ■^—  you  would  be  in  time  for  her  to  go  to  the  party  —  her  gal  was 
to  let  you  in  —  you  were  to  be  at  the  area  railings  and  whistle  the 

melody  of  "  Pop  goes  the  weasel  "  at (A  pause  —  deck  strikes 

seven  —  dead  silence  —  the  tune  of  "  Pop  goes  the  iceasel"  is  tchistled 
outside,  c.  —  astonished.)  That  signal,  can  it  be  ?  —  (To  Captain.) 
You,  then,  are  not  Grimes. 

Cap.     You  confounded  idiot,  haven't  I  told  you  so  all  along. 

Coo.  No  matter,  —  there  is  a  Grimes,  and  I'll  have  his  blood. 
{^Rushes  out,  c.  d.  l.  h.) 

Mrs.  C.     Bella,  has  your  uncle  been  taking  any  thing  ? 

Bella.     I  don't  know,  aunt ;  there  seems  to  be  some  fearful  mistake. 


SCENE    I.]  CRINOLINE.  19 

CooBiDDY  reenters,  c.  D.  L.  H.,  dragging  in  Jacob  Grimes   by  the 
throat.     Grimes  carries  a  lady' s  iron  hoop  petticoat  in  his  hand. 

Coo.  You  don't  escape  me,  villain  !  You  are  not  half  so  big  as  I 
expected.     Your  name  is  Grimes  ? 

Grimes.     In  coorse  it  is,  —  who  said  it  wasn't  ? 

Coo.  Your  plebeian  disguise  will  not  serve  you  !  You  have  come 
here  after  a  lady  ? 

Grimes,  (r.  c.)  In  coorse  I  has  !  And  as  I  have  got  three  more 
ladies  to  go  after  on  the  same  harrand,  you  be  so  good  as  to  let  me  be. 

Coo.  (c.)  Three  more  ladies !  The  hardened  profligate.  {Look- 
ing at  petticoat.')  And  what  is  this  fearful  instrument  —  a  scaling 
ladder  r 

Grimes.  Scaling  ladder  be  blowed  !  It's  that  ere  lady's  iron 
hoop.     {^Pointing  at  ^Irs.  C.) 

Mis.  C.     (^Hiding  her  face.)     Spare  me. 

Cap.     That  lady's  ? 

Grimes.     In  coorse. 

Cap.     (^Pointing  to  Bella.')     Not  this  lady's  ? 

Grimes.  No,  she  wouldn't  have  one  at  no  price  —  though  I  offered 
her  a  beautj^  a  bargain. 

Cap.     Isabella  Coobiddy,  come  to  my  arms ;  we  may  be  happy  yet. 

Bella,  (l.)  I  see  it  all.  Is  it  possible,  John  Edward  Le  Brown, 
that  you  could  have  suspected  r 

Cap.  (l.  c.)  How  could  I  help  it  ?  I  had  seen  the  —  the  article 
in  question  going  and  coming  from  the  house.  I  naturally  assumed 
that  it  was  for  you,  and  you  wouldn't  suppose  me  capable  of  maiTying 
a  girl  who  would  make  such  a  guy  of  herself. 

Bella.  John  Edward,  say  no  more.  I  wouldn't  wear  one  for  a 
thousand  a  year.     (^They  embrace  and  go  up.) 

Coo.  {To  Grimes.)  Kcprcsentative  of  the  industrial  interests, 
come  here.     Is  this  your  writing  ?     {Slwicing  note.) 

Grimes.     In  coorse  it  is. 

Coo.  Why  did  you  address  my  Avife  as  "yours  most  —  E  F  — 
efeckshunately  ? " 

Grimes.     Why,  it's  the  regular  thing,  ain't  it  ? 

Coo.     By  no  means. 

Grimes.     It's  the  way  I  always  writes  to  my  old  mother. 

Coo.  Lord,  what  a  Ibol  I've  been,  to  be  sure.  To  think  {to  Mrs. 
Coohiddy)  I  had  a  rival  concealed  in  that  room,  when  it  was  only 
thus  ridiculous {S/u)wing  petticoat.) 

Mrs.  C.  Pray  throw  it  out  of  the  window,  Tom,  and  say  no  more 
about  it.  I  am  very  much  ashamed  of  myself,  indeed;  but,  as  you 
see,  I've  given  up  all  idea  of  wearing  it. 

Coo.  {Opening  window  E.  f.,  and  throwing  petticoat  oxit.)  Hi  ! 
boys,  here's  a  lot  of  hoops  for  you.  Bowl  them  along  the  pavement, 
so  as  to  upset  as  many  w^omen  in  preposterous  petticoats  as  possit)le. 
{To  Captain.)  Grimes,  come  to  my  arms  and  call  me  uncle.  (Cap- 
tain and  CoomuDY  are  rushing  into  each  other' s  arms  —  the  real 
Grimks  interposes  —  the  three  embrace.) 

Grimes.     Uncle. 


30  CRiNOLns-E.  [act  I. 

Coo.  I  didn't  mean  you,  Grimes,  but  it's  all  the  same.  I  could 
embrace  all  the  world.     I  feel  so  happy,  —  every  thing  is  now  settled. 

The  C.  D.  opens.  Enter  Xaxcy  Bitteiis  in  a  splendid  "  Su7idai/  out  " 
costume  —  a  silk  skirt  highly  flounced,  over  a  hoop  petticoat  of  the  most 
exaggerated  dime)isions. 

Nancy,  (c.)  I  beg  your  parding,  sir,  there  is  a  trifle  of  twenty 
shillings,  a  months  wages,  not  yet  settled,  if  you  please. 

Mrs.  C.      (r.)     "What  impudence. 

Bella,     (l.)     Did  you  ever  see  such  a  figure? 

Nancy,  (c.)  Ho,  indeed  !  perhaps  other  people  may  be  allowed 
to  wear  iron  what's-o'-names,  as  well  as  some  people.  I  suppose  I'm 
my  own  missus  now  and  can  dress  as  I  Uke  !  Mr.  Coobiddy,  1  will 
thank  you  to  mspect  my  boxes  which  is  in  the  lobby. 

Coo.  (r.  c.  Pointing  out  "S Kyicy  to  his  tcife.)  My  dear  you  see 
what  you  might  have  come  to  yourself,  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely 
interposition  of  Providence.     Nancy  ! 

Nancy.  (^Up  c.)  Miss  Bitters,  if  you  please,  sir,  being  no  longer 
in  your  service. 

C'oo.  Then  Miss  Bitters  I  will  do  myself  the  pleasure  you  propose, 
■with  a  view  of  hastening  yovir  much  desired  departure. 

Nancy.  You'll  find  none  of  your  property  there,  sir.  (J)rops  sil- 
ver mug  from  under  her  dress.) 

Coo.  (^Picking  it  up.)  It  strikes  me  I  find  some  of  my  property 
here. 

Mrs.  C.     Why,  this  is  grandpapa's  silver  race  cup  ! 

Nancy.  Ho !  indeed  !  It  must  have  caught  in  my  boot  lace ! 
Good  evening. 

Coo.     (^Rushing  to  witidow,  1,.,  vociferating — )      Pohce  ! 


Joux  LiPTROT  appears  at  c.  D.,  wiping  his  mouth,  and  a  bone  in  his 
hand. 

Nancy.     John  Liptrot,  let  me  pass. 

Juhn.  (c.)  Uncommonly  sorry,  Anne !  but  if  called  in  the  way 
of  business,  I  can't  do  it. 

Nancy,  (c.)  Do  you  want  me  to  box  your  ears  for  you,  as  I've 
many  smd  many's  the  time  ?  What !  you  won't,  won't  you  ?  (^Strug- 
gling to  get  past  JoHX  w/w  bars  her  passage  ;  the  Captaix  has  pnt  his 
foot  on  one  of  her  flounces,  the  skirt  comes  off,  and  discovers  iron 
hoop  petticoat,  with  all  sorts  of  spoil  tied  to  the  hoojjs  — Joints  of  meat, 
parasols,  trinkets,  bottles,  groceries,  iSrc.  i^c.     General  consternation.) 

Mrs.  C.  (c.)  And  this  is  what  comes  of  the  fashion  of  wearing 
iron  hoop  petticoats. 

Coo.  (c.)  Off  with  her  !  to  the  lowest  dungeons  of  the  watch- 
house. 

Nancy.  (Overwhelmed  with  shame.)  John  Liptrot,  are  you  going 
to  protect  me,  or  are  you  not  ? 

John.  Nancy  Hitters,  hear  me.  It  ain't  for  the  things  you've  took  ; 
a  lenient  jurj'  might  piit  'em  aU  down  as  parkwisitcs.    But  if  you  think 


SCENE    I.  CRINOLINE.  21 

I'm  going  to  keep  on  with  a  gal  as  is  capable  of  maldng  a  bird  cage 
of  herself,  all  I  can  say  is,  Nancy  —  not  if  I  know  it. 

Coo.  (1)1  c.)  Stop!  On  reflection  we  won't  ptmishher;  we'll 
simply  make  use  of  her  as  a  public  example.  [Brings  her  down.}  Not 
that  I  want  to  put  a  stop  to  this  sort  of  thing  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  all 
hope,  preposterous  as  it  may  be,  you'll  allow  our  CrinoUne  to  continue 
the  fashion. 

SITUATIONS. 
John  Liptrot.     GRmEg^ 

^^,       :Mr.  COOBIDDY.      NaNCT.        £ 


CURTAIN. 


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